


Veni Vidi Vici

by rebelkingbell



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkwardness, F/M, First Meetings, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelkingbell/pseuds/rebelkingbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time she notices Bellamy Blake, she’s buying herself jalapeño flavored chips from the vending machine on the fifth floor of Kane Hall because she needs motivation to finish her three pager for her Intro to Latin class. He’s slouched against the vents, gripping a lighter in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He flicks the window open and stares into space for a moment, as if contemplating whether to burn out his lungs or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Veni Vidi Vici

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired lightly by the Bellarke fic "Same Time Next Week" by oseastarved.

The first time she notices Bellamy Blake, she’s buying herself jalapeño flavored chips from the vending machine on the fifth floor of Kane Hall because she needs motivation to finish her three pager for her Intro to Latin class. He’s slouched against the vents, gripping a lighter in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He flicks the window open and stares into space for a moment, as if contemplating whether to burn out his lungs or not.

  
Clarke frowns. She tries her hardest not to judge smokers but it’s difficult not to when her mother treats respiratory patients and she’s in the rigorous pre-med program herself. She leaves her laptop open on the table in front of him while placing the change back into her leather wallet.

  
“The Roman Empire fell in 476 AD, not 467AD, _princess_.” His rasping sneer permeates the once silent room in the most queer of ways. Sarcasm is dripping from his voice the way ashes might collect in a tray.

  
She meets his brooding brown eyes with a glare. “When you burn a cigarette, you release over seven thousand chemical compounds, exactly ninety three percent of which are toxic.”

  
He rolls his eyes and holds the cigarette between his teeth as he fumbles with the lighter. “I appreciate the concern. It's touching.” He manages, sounding muffled as he tries to light up.

  
“Believe me, I could care less what happens to you. I just don’t want to inhale that noxious stuff.”  
He raises an eyebrow. “Who are you, anyways?”

  
“Clarke Griffin.” She says, irritably. The smoke curls around her throat and tickles her air passageway.  
“Bellamy Blake.” He grins and takes a long drag before glancing at her laptop again.

  
“I don’t know if you wrote this while you were high, but Odoacer overthrew Romulus. Not the other way around.”

  
“I don’t get high.” She points out, correcting the oversight nevertheless.“Textbook med student.” He scoffs. “Just give it a few years. You’ll need something to get you through those late night Emergency Room shifts.”

“At least I’m not a pretentious history geek like you. No job scope.” She huffed.  
“That’s Classics geek to you. And hey, give me Caesar to Cesarean sections any day.”

  
There was a pregnant pause before Clarke gathered her things and shot him an ambiguous look.

  
“See you around, I guess.”  
“See you around, Hippocrates.” He offered her a smug smirk before putting out his cigarette.


End file.
